Senselessness and Sensitivity
by Quoth
Summary: Miss Hermione Granger and Miss Ginny Weasley are taking a turn on the moor when they run into a handsome stranger. Marriage, tumbling down hills and talking carpets feature in Jane Austen meets JK Rowling fic.
1. Lords and Ladies

Senselessness and Sensitivity

Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever. Alas for me! All these contrafibularus characters are all the spawn of Miss JK Rowling. I'm just putting them back in time a few hundred years and taking their clothes off. 

Miss Hermione Granger and Miss Ginny Weasley were taking a walk on the moor. Miss Weasley's shining auburn hair had escaped her bonnet and was whipping over her face. Miss Granger was, as always, impeccably turned out. Her naturally curly brunette hair was drawn into a severe knot underneath a black veiled bonnet. A few drops of rain nestled into the grass in front of the two pairs of pointed shoes.

'My dear Hermione', groaned Miss Weasley ' You always say it will never rain and then it always does!'

'Nonsense dear,' replied the elder girl, 'it is only a little shower' And with that she strode on over the increasingly wet grass. Ginny sighed, then picked up her heavy skirts and ran to catch up the departing black figure. 

But as Miss Granger walked on, she heard a shrill shriek rise up into the air, and spun around.

'Hermione, help!' 

Ginny was lying in a pile at the foot of a little hillock, her white foot sticking out from under her voluminous dress.

'Oh my dear' gasped Hermione, as she bent down. 'Stay here, I will run to the manor and fetch assistance.'

But as soon as the words escaped her mouth and she turned towards the direction from whence the pair had come, she was stopped by an enormous grey horse rearing up in front of her. Much frightened, Hermione fainted away onto the sodden ground. The horse returned to standing on all fours and a lithe figure jumped down from the saddle. Hermione felt a rough shake on her shoulder; she opened her eyes and found herself gazing into twin pools of grey. Thick tendrils of blond hair curled about his slim face.

'Sir Malfoy!' gasped Miss Granger. A deep, masculine voice slid over her, 'May I be of some assistance Madam?' Hermione somehow managed to find her voice, 'Indeed Sir, for my friend has fallen and I am greatly afeared that she may be a great deal hurt, and I have not my wand to hand.' With that she fainted again. The handsome stranger clenched his jaw, furrowed his brow, and strode masterfully over to where Miss Weasley was getting increasingly wet. He bent over her fallen form and took her pale ankle in his elegant hands. 

'May I have permission to ascertain if there are any breaks?' He mumbled. 'Oh Sir!' Replied the damsel, 'I would be very glad to let you do so, yet I fear it is not merely my ankle that is hurt, for I fear I may have damaged my ribs also'. 

'Then I must also examine your chest, my lady'

'I would be greatly indebted to you Sir'.

The knight then bent down to her, his black cloak shielding his face from full view, and proceeded to undo the fastenings of her cloak. He then slowly twisted each of the buttons of her dress out of their holes, one by one. She sighed. He turned her over on her back and began to untie her tight corset out of which her large breasts were bursting. When he had freed her of the hard whalebone cage that pressed in on her perfectly rounded breasts, he turned her over. Her modesty was now covered merely by a thin white undershirt; the man slid his hands over feeling the warm skin underneath with his quick fingers.

'I think, madam, that you are safe, I can feel no breaks.' 

'Oh thank you, Sir' Ginny gasped, and then grabbed her thigh. 'Oh, a spasm, my lord, a spasm'. 

The gentleman, not so gently, ripped away the skirt of her dress, down to the petticoat. The rain had made it transparent and through it her could clearly see a perfect triangle of red hair. He slid his wet hands up and down her legs, as she moaned with pleasure. 'My lady, I fear I may have to be check that your pelvic regions have not been damaged by your tumble.' 'Whatever you think best', the recumbent lady replied.

Sir Malfoy pulled away the almost invisible petticoat and drew Miss Weasley up into a passionate kiss. She pulled away his cloak and shirt to reveal a shining chest, rippling with muscle. She heaved his trousers off. As he sucked at her neck, his hard on pushed into her thigh. Ginny couldn't take any more. She shouted out, all sense of propriety forgotten, With a sly smile, he drew his head up, and plunged into her. He thrust, again and again, driving himself deeper and deeper into her. They fell back onto the grass, rain pattering gently on their naked bodies. 

Sir Malfoy was the first to speak, 'Well, Miss Weasley, I think it's time I returned you. Your mama will be getting extremely vexed.' He redressed before taking her up in his arms, and striding over to where Miss Granger was just beginning to wake up.

 'Oh, my dear Miss Weasley!' She cried. 'Are you much hurt?'

 Miss Weasley smiled, 'Oh no, Miss Granger, I am quite well. Sir Malfoy has been of great assistance'.

And so the three returned to the manor in the rain, where Miss Weasley's mama was, indeed, extremely vexed. The next day, Sir Malfoy was back running his Polyjuice brothel in Knockturn Alley, Miss Granger was in the parlour with smelling salts, and Miss Weasley had caught a cold.


	2. Rogues and Rugs

Senselessness and Sensitivity

Disclaimer: I reiterate my previous statement 

Miss Ginny Weasley was vexed. She lay on a low couch, a teacup of Pepper-up potion held in her thin white fingers. Countless pastel scarves were draped over her slender form. She sneezed. 

'Oh my dear child, I do declare!' Mrs Weasley flew into the room, her lacy bonnet bobbing up and down over her tightly curled hair.  She swooped down over her ailing daughter with a plate of current muffins. Miss Weasley raised her blue, tearful eyes to the anxious brown ones of her mother.

 Alas, mama, I fear that I am not long for this world. I feel life slowly slipping away from me..' this heartfelt expostulation was interrupted by the insistent ringing of a bell from Miss Granger's quarters. 

The distracted mama deposited the plate of buttered muffins on Miss Weasley's lap and trotted upstairs, greatly offending the rug by shouting at it. 'I'm not just here to be walked over you know!' It spat in. Turning a faded tassel to Miss Weasley, it beseeched. 'Is it too hard ma'am to want a little respect. Begging your pardon but I have rights, though I may be just a lowly rug.'

 Ginny sniffed. 'Silence, you insolent doormat. I have troubles much more pressing than yours. The dashing Sir Malfoy has forsaken me! I have been invalided for a week now, and no sign of him.' She raised a pristine white handkerchief and delicately dabbed her eyes.

 Now, despite being rather downtrodden, the rug had a good heart and to see a maiden in such obvious distress, well, it cut her deep. And so it was with a resigned countenance that she edged closer to the sofa and leaned over confidentially. 'Well dear, I heard from the keyhole that Sir Malfoy is having some trouble with the law over some of his.' Here the carpet coughed loudly. 'Less noble ventures.' Disregarding Miss Weasley's rather naively puzzled air, the rug continued. 'Listen my dear, I know men. I'm sure that when Mr Malfoy has resolved his business troubles he'll be back in Ottery St. Catchpole before the end of the season.' She patted the woeful Miss Weasley on the shoulder. The woeful Miss Weasley managed a rather watery smile, 'Why, I do hope you are right.' And bit thoughtfully into a current bun. 

Miss Granger meanwhile, was also much vexed. Sitting in the upstairs parlour with smelling salts and servants gathered about her, she wafted her handkerchief back and forth in front of her face.

 'Ah me!' She exclaimed. 'I am nearing the age of five and twenty and am yet no closer to finding a husband than I was at four and twenty. Alas!' Bunberry, a male maid sporting a frilly white apron knelt down at her be-slippered feet.

 'Oh chin up dear! There's that Mr Potter, 'e's awful 'ansom'. 

'Indeed, yet I fear that he is soon to be betrothed to the beautiful Countess Chang. Alack!'

The maid tried again, 'There's always nice Mr Longbottom from over Godric's Hollow way.' 

Miss Granger breathed out vehemently through her thin nostrils. 'I will be cold in my grave, Bunberry, before I consent to marry that simpleton. He would bore the leggings off a village idiot'. She then sniffed loudly, making her disgust obvious.

The hapless Bunberry tried one more. 'What about Lord Weasley?' 

Miss Granger shot the impudent servant a look that could have curdled milk. 

'How dare you even speak that rascal's name! I have not spoken to that rogue since the day he left me standing at the altar. When I think of the scandal it caused!' She took a long sniff from one of the many bottles surrounding her, and seemed to recover her composure. She then proceeded to turn her wrath on the ill-fated Bunberry. 'You, you are a disgrace to this manor. Such insolence is not to be born! Treacherous villain, out of my sight! Bunberry promptly scurried out of the door, apron flapping about his little bald head. 

Miss Granger sighed as she took another sniff. Wretched servants and no husband. Things were in a rather dismal state of affairs.

There was knock on the door of the manor. Bessie hurried to open it. Standing outside the door was a tall gentleman dressed all in black with an extremely imposing air. He swept his hat off and bowed low. 'My good woman, is your mistress at home to company this fine morning'.

'Indeed Sir.' Blushed the young maid. 'May I inquire as to the name of the gentleman who wishes to call on her?'

The handsome stranger smiled seductively,

'Sir Draco Malfoy, at your service'. 


	3. Perplexing Proposals

Senselessness and Sensitivity

_Disclaimer: Own anything? Moi? That's JK you're thinking of my child._

The door to the parlour was flung open and Draco Malfoy strode over to where Miss Weasley was reclining on the couch, the rug draped over her shoulders. Her nose was somewhat reddened. 

'Oh, my lord! Why; I am not in a proper state to receive you. I humbly apologise. I am quite unwell.' She gave a rather dainty cough, and lowered her eyes.

The debonair young man knelt down beside her and, clasping her frail hand in his, kissed it passionately. 'My darling, how have the hours wracked and tortured me since I left you! My heart aches with a passion beyond the bearing of any mortal man, therefore my darling, I beg you to consent to be my wife.'

 Miss Weasley was most shocked, and promptly had a coughing fit. Sir Malfoy, desiring, as ever, to be of service, placed himself beside her on the sofa and gently stroked her back until she was recovered. His slender hands proceeded to roam to the front of her loose gown. 'My lord,' she exclaimed, 'what if mama should enter, I should be banished from the manor'. The handsome Draco murmured into her chest, 'Do not distress yourself, Mrs Weasley is being thoroughly amused by one of my associates.'

Mrs Weasley was, indeed, being thoroughly amused. She gave a girlish giggle as Vincent Crabbe slid his hand up her thigh…

The two youngsters were carried on with alarming vigour. Ginny squealed as the knight plunged into her, and rocked her up and down. She thrashed her head from side to side, her clasping hands destroying a lovely embroidered cushion. She called out as her body was overcome with tempestuous sensations. Sir Malfoy, smirking, rolled off the trembling Miss Weasley onto the floor.

The rug winked at him.

Fortuitously, Miss Granger was otherwise engaged during these rather disturbing happenings. For, minutes before the arrival of the suave Sir Malfoy, she too had a visitor. Seconds before the doorbell had chimed, a certain Count Snape had apparated into her bedchamber.

'My dear Miss Granger, such a pleasure, I hope you do not object to my intrusion, but there is something very particular I must talk with you about.' 

He seated himself in a stiff upright chair facing the stunned damsel, flicked back his mane of rather unsanitary black hair, and addressed her,

'Miss Granger, I have a proposition for you which I am sure you will not fail to resist. I am, as you know, a gentleman of considerable property and,' he bared his yellowing dentures, 'physical charms. I am however, not blessed with a felicitous household. My home is bereft of the feminine touch.' Miss Granger began to feel rather concerned. Count Snape was edging closer and closer to her chair. 

'You are, I understand, still unmarried, and with your parents gone have no income on which to rely if you remain without a husband. Therefore Miss Granger, after due consideration I feel it would be beneficial to both of us for yourself and I to be joined in matrimony.' 

Miss Granger fell out of the chair, only to be grasped by the oily hands of Snape and pulled up into an awkward embrace. She struggled as he locked his greasy lips around hers. 'I do declare Count Snape! I find you most improper.' She gasped as she pulled away from him. 'I must consider, my position. I will give you my answer in a fortnight.' 

The Count gave a sly smile, 'Why of course Madam, I understand, it would not do to appear too eager. One must retain some mystery, or you fear I will not desire you, is that not so?' He laughed. 'But don't distress yourself, I am very eager to witness all of your, 'he looked at her chest, licking his lips, 'allurements'. Miss Granger shuddered. 'I think perhaps, it would be wise for you to depart now Count, my mama…' 

'Why of course my dear, I shall come again, in a fortnight.' He ran his tongue along her pale hand. Sucking on her index finger suggestively. Then, before Miss Granger could protest, he was gone.

            Meanwhile, in the parlour, Miss Weasley and Sir Malfoy had concluded their activities and were saying their farewells.

            They kissed passionately, Draco's tongue running smoothly over Ginny's lower lip. They broke away abruptly. ' Ginny, I must have your answer, this ignorance is tearing my soul!' Gazing into his eyes, Ginny replied, 'Yes Sir, with all my heart. But I fear mama will disapprove! She has heard things of your business enterprises which she did not like. I know not what they are but she does not look upon you with a friendly eye.' Sir Malfoy threw back his shoulders, showing his muscular chest off to great advantage.

'Fear not, my love. I have a cunning plan.'

'But mama?'

'I will assuage your mother's fears, when she sees the splendour in which you will live, she will not fail to consent.' Miss Weasley looked pensive. 

'Draco, these enterprises, what exactly...?'

Sir Malfoy chose that rather awkward moment to give Ginny a farewell kiss before leaping on his horse and departing with a cry of 'Till we meet again'. After all, he wasn't the type of man to corrupt the innocence and naivety of a young maid. Of course not. Besides, he was expecting a shipment of magician's marijuana in from Bulgaria. And he needed a haircut. 


	4. Spiders and Shenanigans

Senselessness and Sensitivity

_Disclaimer: JKs. Not mine. Dammit_

_And so the saga continues… _

Miss Granger was resolute. She refused to become an old maid like Mrs McGonagall. And although her heart still belonged to Ronald, he had deserted her. No one had seen him since he disappeared on their wedding day. The Grand High Minister of Magic, His Lordship Mr Fudge had sent out search parties, yet to no avail. But that was a year ago. He was not going to return.

Yet it was with a heavy heart that she knocked on the imposing door to Slytherin castle. As the door opened Miss Granger peered inside, but she could see no one. She suddenly felt something furry scrape along her leg. Looking down she saw a spider the size of a parasol. She screamed and was about to run away when a slimy voice behind her said,

'Miss Granger, such a pleasure, don't mind Tiddles, he won't harm you.'

Tiddles did not seem to quite agree. He bared his long thin fangs at Miss Granger, saliva dripped onto her rose-coloured gown. She wished for the twentieth time that morning that she had emigrated to America with her Aunt Fanny. 

            Count Snape beckoned her through a door. She skirted past the rather maniacal looking Tiddles and followed Snape into a vast stone room with two large squishy armchairs. He seated himself in one and she placed herself daintily opposite. Snape steepled his thin fingers, resting his chin on the point. 'Now Miss Granger, to what do I owe this rare pleasure'.

Hermione took a deep breath. 'I have decided to become your wife'

Snape leered at her, 'I knew you would make the sensible choice'. He left his chair and placed his frog-like lips next to Miss Granger's. His cold, slimy tongue slid over her red lips. 

'Oh Sir, please, we are not married yet and until then...'

'Ah yes! Of course, I understand perfectly. You want to be untainted on our wedding night.'

 Hermione nodded slowly, at least that would delay the event as long as possible. She was _not_ looking forward to it.

Meanwhile Miss Ginny Weasley and Sir Draco Malfoy were having a rather delightful time, skipping through fields, picking daisies and such like. They doted on each other. Yet, they were always under the threat of discovery. For despite endeavours on both parties, Mrs Weasley was not about to let her only daughter 'throw herself away on a liar and a thief'. Henceforth, despite tears and lamentations from Miss Weasley, Sir Malfoy had been forbidden to call at the house. 

But this had not dampened the lovers' spirits. Quite the reverse. Secret meetings and nighttime shenanigans ensued. Hermione was often called upon to deliver private notes and fabricate elaborate plots so as to ensure Ginny was safe from suspicion.

In fact, the lovers had just concocted an elaborate plot so as to allow them to be alone together in a field for a few hours. Ginny lay with her head on Draco's supple thighs.

'My darling, how I do love you!'

'And I you' replied Malfoy. 

And not being a pair for discussion they soon were tearing off each other's clothes. 

They lay half asleep, on the yellowed grass until an owl swooped down dropping a letter in Ginny's lap. She tore it open anxiously, it was from Hermione. 'My darling Ginny, I have news. I am to be married to Count Snape tomorrow morning. I would be grateful if you and Draco could be there. I...' Here the paper was smudged with tears. 

'Oh my poor Hermione!' gasped Ginny. Sir Malfoy pulled on his breeches, saying. 

'Do not fear my darling, your friend shall not be alone in her hour of need'

They both tumbled back into their garments and Draco swung Miss Weasley onto his horse. 

'But first' He whispered into her ear. ' There's a rather promising looking old cottage a few miles yonder.'

Ginny giggled as they bounced off over the meadow.


	5. The Grand Finale

Senselessness and Sensitivity

Disclaimer. I hereby disclaim everything. Except my apocalypse hoodie. That's mine, all mine!

_Behold the final chapter! Twists, turns and intrigues…._

The organ droned out a slow melody as Miss Hermione Granger, greatly resembling a lemon meringue pie, sashayed up the isle. She turned around; Ginny in jade robes that perfectly suited her colouring gave Sir Malfoy a coy glance as they passed the pew in which the gentleman was seated. Mrs Weasley witnessed the glance also, for her the hue of her face darkened into a very unbecoming scarlet. For despite the fact that the whole of the town knew about the scandalous romance of the Weasley girl and young Malfoy heir, she was no less resigned to it. 

But on this particular day, it was Hermione who was conducting a romance, it might as well be called that for seems to be no fitter term for it and weddings are generally considered to be romantic things. Yet Hermione did not feel romantic in the slightest as she stepped up to the altar next to the greasy, black-clad, elderly figure of Count Severus Snape. She stared resolutely at the floor as he displayed his rotting teeth. 

The priest began 'Dearly beloved, we are gathered here'. Miss Granger did not hear a word. The priest turned first to Snape. 'Count Severus Salazar Sebastian Sanctimonious Snape, do you take Miss Hermione Louise Granger to be your lawful wedded wife?' 

'I do' he replied, sneaking a lustful look at the virginal Hermione.

'Miss Hermione Louise Granger, do you take Count Severus Salazar Sebastian Sanctimonious Snape to be your lawful wedded husband'. Hermione shuddered. 

'I do'.

'I now pronounce you husband and…'

             The door to the church burst open as a figure riding a chestnut horse, charged up to the altar. He leapt down gracefully from his mount and swept Miss Granger into his arms, planting a passionate kiss on her open mouth.

The congregation gasped, who could this dashing, suave, debonair stranger be? The question was answered as the gentleman threw off his hat to reveal none other than Lord Ronald Weasley.

There was silence as he got down on one knee, holding the damsel's pale hand in his own, saying 'Hermione my darling, will you marry me?'

Hermione wrung her hands, 'Ronald, how can you ask me that when you abandoned me so cruelly?'

'Darling, I can explain!'  There was a pause.'

'Go on then.' 

He cleared his throat loudly, and began. 'On the day that I was to be wedded to you, I had a letter from the Ministry of Magic informing me that my skilled assistance was urgently needed, He Who Must Not Be Named was rumoured to be in the area, and was employing his trusty servant Wormtail in the guise of a person of the town. I spent the next months secretly surveying all the residents of Ottery St Catchpole, but it was only until a week ago that I discovered the culprit.' He strode to the centre of the aisle and pointed straight at …………………………………

Mrs Weasley.

            The congregation gasped. 'How did I know I hear you ask?'. No one in fact had queried this but I'm sure you'd like to know, wouldn't you?

            'Well, I had a piece of information from a certain Vincent Crabbe. When he and _Mrs Weasley_ were, hmm, canoodling, he noticed something very odd. She told him to indulge in certain activities which would only apply if she possessed certain 'lower appendages'.  Now ladies and gentleman I am an expert in this field and so this was my main clue. After that the rest fell into place. It was the perfect person to be. Close to the closet friends of Harry Potter himself. Head of the Weasley family since her husband's death at the hands of Voldemort and intimate with Miss Hermione Granger. All that remains then is the proof, for I think that in all the rush of the wedding Peter Pettigrew has forgotten to take his Polyjuice potion.'

            Everyone turned to the figure of Mrs Weasley who leapt up, 'Ha ha! Fools! Voldemort will return and then vengeance with be wrought upon those who hate him!' And he apparated. 

            Lord Ronald, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that the person who he had been chasing for months had been right under his very nose only to escape; turned to a white faced Hermione.

            'My Darling, can you forgive me?'

            'Oh Ronald!' Gasped Hermione as she fell into Lord Weasley's arms.

            After some considerable 'canoodling', they broke away as Lord Weasley said,

            'Then my little pixie, let us be wed, here, now!'

            But Count Snape was not going to relinquish his bride that easily. 'I beg your pardon, _Lord_, but I am already married to Miss Gra…Countess Snape!'

            The priest coughed. 'Well, um, actually, you are not officially married till I say the last, um, bit.'

            The Count glared at him, but was pushed out of the way and Lord Weasley, taking Miss Granger by the arm, stepped up to the altar. The priest, dispensing with the first part, went straight to, ' Do you, Lord Ronald Timmy Weasley take Miss Hermione Granger to...'

            Suddenly a female voice shouted out from the crowd, 'Stop!' The priest groaned as Miss Ginny Weasley, hand in hand with Sir Malfoy, rushed up to the altar. 'Marry us too, now that mama is gone we are free!'

'But Miss Weasley, where is your real mother?' 

            At that moment, Mrs Weasley appeared in the aisle with a 'pop'. She ran up to the altar, 'Oh my darling, I've been so worried!' 

            'Mother, is it really you?'

            'Of course darling! Who else would know that you have six toes on your left foot!'

            'Mama!'

            Sir Malfoy coughed. 'Mrs Weasley, may I beg the hand in marriage of your lovely daughter?'

            'How much do you earn?' She asked, her eyes narrowing.

            'Ten thousand a year ma'am.' Before adding under his breath, ' Well, legally, that is.' Mrs Weasley clapped her hands, 'Then may God give you joy!'

            And so the two happy couples stepped up to the altar, and finally were married. There was great jubilation, and halfway through the wedding banquet Harry Potter burst in,

            'Lord Voldemort is dead!' So everyone was awfully cheerful. 

            Needless to say, the couples lived happily ever after and even Count Snape found solace in the pug face of the very energetic Pansy Parkinson. 


End file.
